


survivor's guilt

by mcmeekin



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers R.P.M.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmeekin/pseuds/mcmeekin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He likes to think of the city, the survivors, as casualties. Soldiers injured in battle. Because it is a battle. And he's yet to meet someone who hasn't been hurt by it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The five yellow rangers that Scott Truman meets and the one he never does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. clip her wings so she can't fly (Taylor)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was mostly inspired by me repeatedly watching the RPM/Samurai team-up and getting obsessed with the thought of Scott running into one of them in Corinth and then it turned into me obsessing over how different rangers would react to surviving the Venjix attacks. So here goes nothing.  
> For our purposes RPM takes place in late 2012/early 2013 with the first Venjix attacks being in early 2012 because it never says in the show so I can do whatever I want.  
> All of these can be read separate of each other.  
> Warnings for: mentions of major character death (in an alternate dimension if that bothers you), general sadness  
> All mistakes are my own.

The bar is tucked away on a backstreet, hidden, almost like the owner doesn't want customers— which, considering the unfriendly bartender, is an acute possibility. Scott only finds it by taking several wrong turns in the early days of Corinth and has made a point to avoid it since then. It hadn't been hard to figure out that it was frequented almost exclusively by military and former military personal. He isn't sure what draws him back ( _medals of honor, inadequacy, self-pity_ ), but somehow he finds himself sitting at the counter, staring at a beer.

“Air force.” He turns to see a blond woman sitting a couple seats down from him, eyeing him critically.

“What?” he asks.

“Air force,” she repeats. “You look like former air force.” He stares at her for a long time, feeling like his brain is working more slowly than it should be. She shrugs and turns back to her drink. “You just look like you belong in the sky.”

He looks at her for a while before replying, “I consider myself on temporary leave.” She chuckles and takes a sip of her beer. He notices an engagement ring glint on her finger and wonders why she drinks alone. Then he remembers the number of people who never made it to Corinth and abandons the wondering in favor of a sip of his own beer.

“Red, right?” she asks, sounding absurdly amused. “Scott Truman?”

“The one and only,” he deadpans.

“I've got a goddaughter who plans on marrying you,” she says matter-of-factly. He looks sideways at her and raises an eyebrow. She shrugs. “I told her she has to turn eighteen first.”

“How old is she?” he asks.

“Eight,” she replies with a grin that he doesn't share because that would make her seven at the first Venjix attacks, too young to see the world go to hell. Did her parents make it? Would she remember what it was like before the attacks when she grew up— _if_ she grew up? He tips his beer back. The woman must see some of these thoughts on his face because her smile slides away, and she takes a swig of her drink.

“You air force too?” he asks, gesturing to her dog tags, trying to steer the conversation away from heavy thoughts. She nods curtly. “Bet you outrank me,” he says.

“You bet right,” she replies. “But hey, when you go back, maybe you can work your way up.”

“If they’ll take me back,” he mutters into his beer, quite suddenly remembering the reason for his desire to drink.

“They will,” she assures him. He shoots her a look, and she shrugs defensively. “They took me back, and I wasn't even a public identity ranger.”

He nearly chokes. “What?”

She smirks slightly at his shock. “Sorry kid, forgot that actives have a harder time IDing the rest of us on sight. I was Wild Force Yellow.”

“Wild Force Yellow,” he repeats dumbly.

“Soaring Eagle,” she replies, her tone almost self-deprecating.

“Like, Turtle Cove Wild Force. 2002 Wild Force.” She doesn't say anything to this, just raises an eyebrow before throwing back her beer. “Wait, so there’re more of us? In the city?” She nods briefly, gesturing at the bartender for another drink. “Your team made it?” He tries not to sound incredulous.

Her face darkens. “Not all of it.”

He lets that sink in for a moment before asking, “What happened?”

Her laugh is short and harsh. “What happened everywhere else, kid? Venjix happened.”

“But you’re rangers—”

“ _Were_ , not _are_. _Were_ rangers.” She laughs bitterly again. “You know, there was a time when I believed that 'once and always' bullshit. And for the first few weeks, I thought it might actually matter that we were rangers. I thought our mentor would come back. She said she would, if the world needed her. Apparently we didn't need her enough.” The bitterness, the hurt, the betrayal in her tone sounds too familiar in his ears. “And then I thought Time Force would come back.”

“2001, Silver Hills,” he recalls, sending a silent ‘thank you’ to Flynn for all the impromptu ranger history lessons.

“They were from the future,” she says offhandedly, and Scott’s glad he wasn't drinking. “We teamed up once. But they didn't come. Not even when—” She breaks off abruptly, an unreadable emotion passing over her face. She takes a sip before continuing. “Then I stopped waiting. Nobody’s gonna save us, kid. Nobody but us.”

They settle into a heavy silence, both of them feeling the press of the world on their shoulders. Scott finishes his beer and is about to get up and leave, but something possesses him to turn toward her again. “What’s your name?”

She glances at him sideways, seemingly measuring him up. “Taylor,” she says at last.

“It’s good to meet you, Taylor.” He calls to the bartender. When he looks up, Scott says, “She’s with me. Put her on my tab.”

She looks at him, confused. “You aren't charged anywhere in the city. Rangers drink free.”

He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, swings it on, and manages to smile at her. “Exactly.”

He never goes back to that bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set sometime during the RPM episode "Heroes Among Us."


	2. cage the beast; don't let her run (Lily)

He notices the open sign before the name.

Had it been any other day, it definitely would have been the other way around (can a jungle even have karma?). Today is different though, and so he stands in front of the pizza parlor staring at the open sign instead of the admittedly strange name. Finally, curiosity gets the better of him, and he goes inside.

The parlor is empty and unsurprisingly jungle-themed. The television plays on mute up in a corner. _Corinth Commemorates One Year Since Venjix Attacks_ reads the banner at the bottom of the screen. The footage shows packed streets of downtown, of the day-long gathering that everyone in the city is supposed to attend. It’s a celebration for surviving this long and a memorial to the lives lost a year ago. The gathering includes a parade the rangers are going to appear in tonight, and, really, he should already be there.

He figures the owner must have just been in a rush to leave and moves to turn the television off when he catches a whiff of fresh pizza. Not a moment later a woman comes out of the kitchen, humming to herself. She stops dead when she sees him.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stutters. “I thought everyone was at the gathering…”

She blinks at him, seeming to absorb her shock and bounce back faster than he is. She grins. “So did I, which is why I didn’t bother to turn the sign.” He opens his mouth to apologize again, but she waves him off. “You’re fine, you’re fine. RJ always says that as long as one of us is here, we’re open.” She apparently takes his stare as one of confusion because she says, “RJ’s my…boss. I think. He forgets to pay us a lot, so we’re never really sure. Then again, he forgets to charge the customers a lot so…”

“I can leave if you’re—” Scott begins, but she cuts him off.

“Nonsense; I have a large pizza about to come out the oven, and if you leave I’ll eat it all myself and then where would we be.” She gestures around the room. “Pick a booth; I’ll be right back.” She goes back into the kitchen, leaving Scott slightly bemused at her forced kindness. He looks around the cozy restaurant until he settles on a booth in the corner where neither of them have to watch the news.

She comes out of the kitchen carrying the steaming pizza a moment later. “One Triple Cheese Surprise, fresh from the oven,” she says. She puts it down on the table and drops into the booth across from him, grabbing a slice. “Dig in.”

He hesitates. “What’s the surprise in it?”

She grins almost wolfishly. “Find out.”

She watches him as he hesitantly picks up a piece and takes a tentative bite of it. He immediately approves and takes another, more enthusiastic bite. The girl laughs. “The surprise is this special salmon sauce that RJ accidentally discovered a couple of years ago. No one’s ever not liked it.”

There’s a brief, comfortable silence while they both eat before she starts up again. “So, million dollar question: what’s the red ranger doing in a pizza shop instead of at the gathering?”

Any other stranger asking that would have made him uncomfortable, but she’s so disarming when she asks it, with a piece of pizza in her hand, her elbows on the table, and an open expression on her face. So he shrugs. “Probably the same reason a pizza girl is running the shop instead of attending the gathering. I didn't want to go.”

She considers this for a moment, taking a bite of pizza and chewing it slowly. “But that’s the thing: I’m not really sure why I didn't go.”

“How early did your city evac?” Scott asks his tone purposefully light.

She shrugs. “Earlier than it needed to. We were all out way before Venjix got near us. You were air force, weren't you?” He raises his eyebrows, and she laughs. “Sorry, that sounded creepy; the news ran a special on the rangers earlier today.”

“Well, the news got it right. Barely made it out of the final stand alive. Wouldn't have made it out, if it weren't for my yellow.”

Something changes subtly on her face, and for a moment her expression is unreadable. Then she’s grinning again, and her tone is joking when she asks, “Did she really ride out into the wastelands on a bike to rescue you?”

He cracks a smile. “She really did. Without ever having met me, which makes it even more impressive than it already is.”

“Why do you think she did that? Risk her life for a stranger?” the girl asks curiously.

Scott’s about to respond with “well, that’s just the way she is,” when it occurs to him how untrue that answer would be. That’s the way she is now, but back then? Back then she was bratty and selfish. He considers the question.

“I think… I think it’s why I’m not at the gathering,” he says at last, staring at the table. “I think we all feel a little guilty for being alive, for living when someone else couldn't. I think saving me, a stranger, was her way of making up for surviving. Like, if she could save one person it would make up for all the people she couldn't. My way is being a ranger. And I can’t go to that gathering in good conscious until Venjix is down for good, until no more people can die because of him.”

She stares at him for a long time, and he thinks that she might understand. “I think you’re right,” she says at last in a low tone. Then, much brighter, “But you still have to go to the parade thing.”

He groans good naturedly and puts his head down on his arms. “You’re right,” he says, voice muffled by his arms. “I’d better go.”

He stands up and starts pulling out his money, like he always does, but she’s already shaking her head. “Rangers eat free, even on holidays.”

He smiles. “Thank you for the excellent pizza… You know I never caught your name.”

“Probably because I never dropped it,” she says teasingly. She stands up and extends her hand. “Lily Chilman.”

“Scott Truman,” he replies, shaking her hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Lily.”

He thinks about her the entire parade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had a very different version of this written, but it ended up being way too lighthearted for the tone of the rest of them. This is still pretty lighthearted, but I think that's just the way Lily is.  
> Also I know nothing about pizzas so who knows if that would be good.


	3. don't let her shine or she'll eclipse us (Tanya)

Scott makes a point of sending at least one ranger to every event they’re invited to. If Venjix makes them miss an event, a handwritten apology is sent. Interviews, fundraisers, birthday parties: if the rangers can attend, they will. This evening it’s a charity ball, a _gala_ , as the invitation had called it. Scott’s unsure if gala is the right word, but he dutifully shows up at the proper place at the proper time wearing proper attire.

Summer comes with him, a happy occurrence since she’s more engaging than he will ever be, allowing him to rely on her to carry conversations. She’s currently in the middle of a debate about the possible resurfacing of nuclear weapons. Her tight-lipped smile as she listens to a balding rich guy rant tells Scott that the man is probably an idiot, and she’s definitely going to win.

“Scott Truman?” a voice asks behind him. He turns and nearly drops his champagne flute. The woman extends her hand. “I’m—”

“Tanya Park,” he interrupts, taking her hand and shaking it. The woman raises her eyebrows and smiles at his interruption. "Sorry, my mom loved your albums. She listened to them non-stop when I was a kid.” Her polite smile falters slightly at his use of the past tense. He clears his throat, suddenly wishing that Summer was with him.

“I didn’t realize the rangers would be attending this evening’s ball,” she says, a question hinging on the end of her words.

“We were invited,” he replies.

“You don’t have to go to every event you are invited to,” she says, amused. “Though I can see your teammate has found a way to entertain herself.” He turns to see Summer apparently winning the debate she’s engaged in (judging by her expression). He tries to hide his smirk as he turns back.

“She’s better at this than I am,” he admits.

She tilts her head to the side slightly. “But you still come.”

“Yes I still come. They took the time to think of me and invite me, so I take the time to attend.”

She laughs, a musical sound. “You sound just like my husband.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“As you should,” she replies easily. “I wish I was more like him.”

“Speaking of Mr. Park, is he here this evening?” Scott privately hopes he isn't because Flynn would kill Scott if he returned from a party which Adam Park attended without an autograph.

She glances around. “He’s around here somewhere.” She shares a smile with Scott. “He’s probably doing the same thing as your teammate. He’s convincing when he wants to be.”

There is silence for a moment and then, “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Mr. Truman?”

Surprised, he responds, “Only if you call me Scott.” She flashes him a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

“Do you ever regret becoming a ranger?”

He opens his mouth to say no, never, then hesitates. “There are moments,” he says after a while. “Moments when Venjix launches three attacks in a row and I'm exhausted, when I visit people wounded in an attack that I couldn't stop from happening, when I see another building destroyed because I messed up, moments when I regret it. Briefly.” She’s silent for too long, looking thoughtful. “I’m sorry; that probably doesn't instill confidence in you about the leader of RPM.”

She shakes her head quietly. “No, no, it’s just the opposite. I understand.”

And, for some reason, Scott gets the feeling that she does, more than he thinks. For the briefest of moments, it’s like he can see another path, another timeline. One where another girl stands in front of him, a happier girl, a _better_ girl, a girl that should have lived, that could have lived, if only Tanya had chosen differently. But the feeling only lasts a moment, and when it’s gone, he can’t remember feeling it.

“Well, my set is next, so I’d better go,” she says. She extends her hand again. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Scott.”

He shakes her hand. “Likewise, Tanya.”

He watches her smile all the way up to the stage where she takes her place in front of the mike. “Good evening everyone.” The crowd falls silent, and he feels rather than sees Summer slip next to him. “I’d like to start this evening off with a song by Cassie Chan. This is called _Crossroads_.”

The song is slow and maybe a little too full of regret, but Scott thinks it couldn't have been sung better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring the "Tanya, Cassie, and Kira all sing each other's songs and laugh about it at ranger reunions" headcanon.


	4. ground him into dust or he'll rise up (Dustin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: actual discussion of canonical character death

He sort of hates the memorial, when he lets himself admit it. It’s big and ugly and seems too much like that modern art bullshit his mom was always raging against. But he still goes to it at least once a week because it’s the only memorial he has, even if it is gaudy. It’s the word ‘remember’ spelled out using things Venjix destroyed, things that were salvaged from the wasteland expeditions in the early days of Corinth. People stick flowers in the cracks of it which probably makes it uglier if anything, but Scott doesn’t judge them for it. It makes people feel better. Today he stands a little ways away from the memorial so people with flowers can get close and watches them.

“No flowers from the red ranger, huh?” a voice asks behind him. He turns slightly to see that a man has appeared beside and a little behind him, just out of his line of sight. It’s an impressive feat, sneaking up on a ranger, and he wonders vaguely if the man did it on purpose. He certainly doesn’t seem like he’s a threat, but you never know. The man shrugs, unaware of Scott’s silent sizing up. “I never bring flowers either. They always hated ‘em. They’d hate this memorial too; it’s pretty ugly.”

Scott finally settles on ‘not a threat’ and relaxes imperceptibly. “I don’t bring them ‘cause they make it more ugly, but the whole ‘person you’re doing it for hating it’ is a good point too. Family?”

The man’s brow furrows for a moment like he’s considering the question seriously. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Yeah, they were family.”

“Mine too,” Scott says. “My brother, Marcus.” He swallows an unexpected lump in his throat. Marcus gets easier to talk about as time goes on, Scott discovers, but not any less painful. “Went down near the end in an aerial battle. We were pilots together.”

The man nods, staring ahead at the memorial with unfocused eyes. “My city was one of the first ones hit. They didn’t even get a chance to start early evacuation. Only a handful of people survived.”

“How did you manage to be one of the lucky few?” Scott asks, watching a little girl stick a rose between a metal refrigerator and a golf club.

“I was out of town.” He sounds broken when he says that, like it’s the biggest shame of his life. “My… They bought me a snowboarding trip for my twenty-fifth birthday. I always wanted to go, but I couldn’t save enough. So they finally talked me into taking the present, and the next thing I hear the entire city’s wiped out.”

Scott doesn’t say that he’s sorry. He would have, before, but now sorry seems weak and insufficient. He won’t say he’s sorry until he’s put Venjix down for good and done his job and earned his right to apologize because he finally made it right. “Got any other family? Were any of the others out of town?” he asks instead.

The man is silent for a long time, his expression unreadable. “One of them lived in a different city. It evacuated long before Venjix got near it. But we haven’t spoken since I left for the snowboarding trip.” He doesn’t sound regretful, just tired. Resigned. Like he’s okay with not speaking to his family.

“Why not?” Scott asks.

He shrugs. “I think we blame each other for living, which is stupid I know, but...” He trails off, seeming unable to justify his assertion.

It’s Scott’s turn to be silent. After a while he says, “You know, I don’t have anyone to talk to about my brother. My dad doesn’t talk about him, and no one else I know knew him. I keep forgetting weird things about him. Like, the other day I forgot what his laugh sounded like.” There’s another silence, then, “I’m scared that one day I won’t remember him at all, and then no one will remember him, and he’ll be irrelevant.”

“Is your point that I should talk to him?” the man asks, his tone yielding nothing.

“No, my point is… who will remember them if you won’t? And how will you remember them if you never talk about them? And who are you going to talk to about them if you don’t talk to him? I don’t know your family, but I can’t imagine that they would want you two to not be speaking.”

A smile flashes across his face. “Man, I can tell you’re a red.” The comment momentarily throws him, but the man doesn’t give him time to decipher it. “You’re right; I don’t want to forget.”

Scott hesitates, then says, “Tell me about them. Tell me what you want to remember.”

The man shrugs, looking at the ground. “Like… how annoyed Shane would get when I woke him up in the morning. The look Cam would give me when I said something, like, level ten stupid. The sheer amount of road rage Tori had. How proud Blake would get when I improved my motorbike time by like point five of a second. Weird things. Things like that. And I, like, keep expecting them to be here, but they’re not, you know? I’ll say something sexist, and I turn to apologize to Tori before realizing that she’s dead. That I’m never gonna get to apologize to her again. Or, like, I learn a new move, and I think, ‘I should show Blake,’ but then I realize that I can’t because he’s dead too.  Or I blow up my blender and think about how much Cam is going to kill me before I remember that dead people can’t kill live ones. Once I saw a sick skateboard in the window of a store and thought about buying it for Shane’s birthday, but he’s not gonna have any more of those.” The man looks so confused that for a moment Scott forgets that the man’s older than him. “And I guess Hunter’s going through the same thing, but, like,” he looks Scott in the eyes, “how do I get over it? That he’s alive, and they aren’t?”

Scott considers him for a moment. “You don’t. You yell, and you hit things, and you scream and break some stuff, and you don’t forgive him for being alive when none of them are; you don’t forgive him for a long time.” The man looks discouraged, but Scott continues, pushing more forcefully. “But then you realize something, something that never occurred to you before. Somewhere between punches and screams and sobs you realize that you don’t blame him, not really, that it’s not his fault, it’s _yours,_ that the person you really blame is yourself, and that’s how you get over it. And then, eventually, after coming to this goddamn memorial way too many times, you forgive yourself. You stop blaming people, and you just grieve.”

The man looks at him for a long time, looking a little like he’s sizing him up. “It’s still an ugly memorial,” he says at last.

Scott laughs. “Did I get your name?”

He holds out his hand, grinning. “Dustin Brooks.”

Scott takes it. “Scott Truman.”

And, as he’s leaving, he turns to see Dustin take a phone out of his pocket and start dialing a number. He grins.


	5. extinguish her flame; don't let it burn (Emily)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. The thought that kicked this off. My favorite one, and also the longest.  
> Takes place before, during, and after Clash of the Red Rangers.

It’s a rare occurrence when Doctor K lets one of the rangers perform zord testing in the wastelands. Usually, she just does it robotically, but some upgrades require the rangers to be physically present in the zords.

“But why does Scott get to do it alone?” Ziggy practically whines.

Doctor K doesn't even look up from her computer. “Because Ranger Red’s morpher provides the boost for the upgrade, requiring his presence and his alone in the megazord configuration.”

“Won’t Venjix get ideas when he sees you lower the shields and send me out?” Scott asks, ignoring Ziggy’s spluttering protests.

“Most definitely,” Doctor K says matter-of-factly. “Which is why you will only be gone an hour and the rest of the rangers will remain here.”

 

Doctor K runs Scott through the tests with relative ease. They’re just wrapping up when that damned robot calling himself Professor Cog shows up and challenges Scott to a _duel_ of all things. And then he escapes to another _dimension_ (because, apparently, those exist), and all Doctor K says is, “Well, at least we know the new upgrade works.”

“Doc,” Scott says, panic lacing through his voice. “What am I supposed to do?”

There’s a pause where Scott can practically hear her fingers whirling across the keyboard, then, “He’s gone to a universe where Venjix never attacked. It’s…late 2011 there, I believe. A city called…Panorama.”

“Doc,” Scott repeats, getting her attention. “Can I follow him?”

She’s quiet for a moment. “I would advise against it.”

“But can it be done?” he asks, his voice rising. Every second he wasted in this zord was a second that robot could use to destroy another world.

A silence. “Yes, it can be done. But you can’t demorph while you’re over there, do you understand me? Your body’s used to our atmosphere; I don’t think you’ll be able to breathe in their clean one.” He barely hears her as he climbs out of the megazord. “And there are active rangers where you’re going, the Samurai. Ranger Red, are you listening to me?”

“No demorphing, be nice to the rangers, got it,” Scott replies. “Wish me luck.” She doesn't get the chance to. He’s already through the portal.

 

He knows the Samurai Power Rangers, or knows of them, from one of Flynn’s impromptu ranger history lessons. With most of the data on former ranger teams destroyed in the attacks, the RPM team relies mostly on him for their information.

“There were two teams of them: one back in ’99, the other in 2011 and early 2012. The second one defeated their villain about three months before Venjix became a big problem. They had two reds,” Flynn had explained one night over dinner.

“Two reds?” Scott had asked, confused.

“The second red didn't come in until the last few fights, but she was amazing.” Flynn sighs. “And the ’99 team rode horses!” he had exclaimed, like this was the most exciting information to ever exist. “And sometimes the ’11 team. But mostly the ’99.”

He guesses that he should expect people who ride horses to use swords, but really, it sort of throws him the first time he sees one of them swing his sword at a Grinder. Blasters are so much easier and far more effective. And there’s only one red. He wonders who the other one will be.

 

He can’t stop looking at the sky, the clear, blue, pollution-free, not-a-dome sky. He itches to fly through it. The buildings, standing tall and undisturbed, amaze him too. And the people, worry-free, the technology, the cellphones and computers and tablets everywhere he turns. People in his dimension are still a little wary of it, but here, no one has to be. He’s suddenly homesick for his world before Venjix.

 

The girls surprise him, with their easy touches and casual acceptance. He’s used to Summer, who sometimes blends in too well with her male counterparts, and Gemma who might as well be a different species for how she acts. He gravitates toward Emily, probably because she wears a familiar yellow, not a foreign pink. She laughs easily at things he says, doesn’t push or demand things of him. She doesn’t look at him with pity when he tells them about his homeworld, only sadness for his loss. He likes her, he decides. He likes how her smile never leaves her face and how she’s kind but not unwilling to joke around and how she looks at the green one like he’s the sun. It makes him happy, how happy Emily is all the time. In fact, everyone on this team is light and free. Everyone except Jayden.

 

When he gets home, he passes out for an entire day. He couldn’t sleep while morphed, couldn’t eat, or drink, so he’s out of commission for about three days on Doctor K’s orders (he only protests a little). His team entertains him with stories about the Samurais while they were here. He would have paid to see Dillon meet Emily and Mia. He tells them stories about his adventures too, and they all laugh together, and he’s glad to be home with his team.

Later, after everyone’s asleep, Scott sits on the couch and pulls up the Corinth Check-In Records on his computer. Every person who is (legally) in Corinth had to check in when they arrived. The Records help people determine who is alive and who is dead. He stares at the home page for a long time before he carefully types “Mia Watanabe” into the search bar. Negative. Mia never made it to Corinth. He checks her family’s status, too, just in case, but none of them made it. “Antonio Garcia” is his next search. Negative. “Jayden Shiba” comes up with nothing. He checks Jayden’s family and is surprised to find that he had an older sister who didn't make it either. Mentor Ji had explained to Scott that the Samurai powers were hereditary and that all the rangers were the oldest in their families, with the notable exception of Emily. Scott wonders if Jayden’s sister was the second red, the real red. He doesn't dwell on it for very long, moving on to see if Kevin or Mike made it. Both come up negative.

It takes him the longest to look up Emily, partly because he can’t remember her last name, but mostly because he’s not sure what he wants to find. Finally, he enters her name, and the blinking “positive” surprises him. It prompts him to enter a security password to pull up her personal information. Being red ranger has its perks, like having the third highest security clearance in the city. He enters the key, and a fact sheet pops up. She lives with her sister, mother, and father down on 32nd Street. She works at a flower shop by the park called “Kendall’s.”

He closes the computer and doesn't sleep that night.

The next day he brushes off Summer’s concern, tells her he’s fine, that he just needs to clear his mind, and goes to the park. He finds the perfect bench to sit on and stare at Kendall’s. Emily comes out eventually, to fix the displays, but he can’t get a good enough look at her, can’t see if she’s really all right. She goes back inside, and, after an eternity, he gets up and follows her.

She is different than how he remembers her. She looks older, probably because she is, but the years seem to weigh more heavily on her than they should. Her eyes hold no smile, and it seems like her shoulders sag slightly from a weight invisible to him.

The bell above the door chimes into the silence, drawing her gaze up from the arrangement she is working on. A smile finds its way onto her face, a smile that shows no teeth and never meets her eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” she asks, her voice less musical, less happy than his memory suggests. He realizes that he’s been standing in the doorway, staring at her, for far too long.

“I just…” He has no reason to be there, no excuse ready-made for his presence. He clears his throat and tries again. “It’s my friend’s birthday, and I thought I’d get some flowers.” The excuse seems flat to him, but she does not question it.

“Is this friend a girl?” she asks, her amusement and mischief achingly familiar, and for a moment, his memory is filled with smiles that could only be described as smirks and looks cast between friends at the antics of another.

“Y-yes, yes she is,” he decides. His legs finally decide to work, and he moves to begin looking around the flower shop that is devoid of other patrons. The word “looking” is generous since he can’t actually see anything but her, a different her, another her shining like the sun in another world, another timeline.

“Your teammate?” she asks, her voice still amused. She must think his nervousness is directed toward the flowers and his friend’s birthday.

He nods. Agreeing with her is easier than coming up with a fresh excuse.

“Summer Landsdown,” she says, and it’s not a question. “Your yellow.”

“My yellow,” he agrees, staring fixedly at some…roses? He’s still too caught up in memories to see them properly. _You were someone’s yellow once, too,_ he thinks, _and_ _maybe you still are_. Could she still be someone’s yellow when there was no one around to claim her?

“Do you have a particular flower in mind…?” He turns to see that she’s come out from behind the counter and is standing behind him.

“Um…no, no I thought that you’d know better than me.” He tries to smile at her, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

She would have laughed at that, in another timeline, but here, she just looks thoughtful. “I’m not sure I would know better than you. I haven’t been doing this for very long.”

He quite suddenly can’t look at her as he tries to force the next words out of his throat. “So, what were you doing before?” But he knows, he _knows_ what she was doing before, before all this, before Corinth, before Venjix, and he’s sure that he’s never hated the computer virus more than in this moment, not even when he lost Marcus, not even when his father hardened, _never_ more than right now, standing in the presence of a supernova who was swallowed by a black hole.

"Nothing much," she answers, forcefully light, and she might have shrugged, but he can’t look at her because all he sees is the ghost of who she should be phasing in and out with the reality of who she is. “We have this new flower in the back that I think will be perfect for your teammate,” she says, changing the subject, and he doesn't blame her. No one in Corinth likes to think about before. Certainly not her.

He nods and lets her lead him to the back of the shop. He notices the way the sunlight gleams off her hair, the way she limps slightly as if nursing an old injury, the way a scar curves down her neck and below her shirt.

“Summer lilies,” she says gesturing to the flower.

He manages to smile. “They’re yellow.”

“Just like her.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, just like her. They’re perfect.”

“How many do you want?” she asks, and he notices that she’s avoiding his gaze too.

“I want seven,” he says after a long time.

“One for each member of your team?” she asks idly, reaching to begin picking out the best ones.

 _No, one for each member of yours,_ he thinks but does not say. Instead he asks, “How did you get that scar? The one on your neck?”

She automatically reaches for it, and then stops just sort, as if unable to touch it. He doesn't expect her to answer, but she does. “A present from a Grinder.”

“A Grinder?” he asks incredulously. Most people evacuated cities before Grinders got anywhere near them. She could have been injured in a city attack, but Scott personally visits all people injured in those, and she was never among them.

She nods and begins walking back to the counter. “I lost a lot of blood. My friend saved my life by putting me on the last bus to Corinth.”

There’s bitterness in her tone, bitterness that her counterpart is probably incapable of feeling.

“But you didn't want to leave.” It’s not a question. Of course she didn't want to leave. That’s why all of them are dead. Because they would never leave their city like that, not when they thought they could help.

“Neither of us wanted to leave,” she says, tying his seven flowers together. “When Venjix attacked our city, we didn't want to evacuate. He knocked me out after I got hurt,” She doesn't look at him as she puts the flowers into a plastic sleeve.

He figures that other people would ask her why she didn't want to leave, but he knows. Other people would ask her if her friend made it, but he knows the answer to that too.

He sees no tears in her eyes and that hurts him more deeply than he wants to admit. He puts his hands over hers, stilling them. “My brother died fighting Venjix,” he says. She doesn't look at him. “And I didn't. I've never quite forgiven myself for that.” After a moment of staring at their hands, she pulls hers away. He lets her.

“What was his name?” he asks at length.  Using past tense when referring to her friends hurts more than it should, but he needs to know. For whatever reason he needs to know which one of her team members loved her enough to knock her out.

She looks him in the eyes for the first time. He doesn't know the girl—no, the _woman_ —who looks back. He doesn't see the ghost of another girl, a younger girl, a happier girl, staring back at him. He sees a stranger. And he swears his heart snaps in two.

“Antonio. His name was Antonio,” she says evenly. “Yours?”

“Marcus,” he replies, and there aren't any tears from him either.

She nods and hands him his flowers. “No charge for the red ranger.”

“Scott,” he says, accepting the flowers. “My name is Scott.”

“Emily,” she replies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emily,” he says quietly before turning his back on her and leaving.

He puts the flowers at the memorial for the people who fell to Venjix’s attacks. Seven lilies for seven fallen samurais. Two for the reds, one for the gold, one for the blue, one for the pink, one for the green, and one for the yellow, who lived but didn't survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Putting the first team in '99 makes Jayden seventeen I think. Also it accounts for what was going on on Earth while Lost Galaxy was messing around across the universe.  
> Also this features the "Antonio and Emily and secret BFFs" theory. I think it might also be a tag.


	6. and leave her be; she's not a threat (Summer)

And, in another timeline, another dimension, another life, Scott Truman never meets Summer Landsdown. He never meets her because she is never his second-in-command, his yellow, his friend. Neither is he her leader, her red, her friend. Scott Truman never becomes a ranger in this timeline, this dimension, because Venjix never attacks. Venjix never attacks because Doctor K never creates him. Doctor K never creates him because Alphabet Soup never exists.

So Scott never meets Summer. Oh, sure, he _hears_ about her: the rich, bratty heiress who makes the news for being rich and bratty. Her birthday party is covered on E! News. He sees it briefly while flipping channels that night. Her wedding is on nearly every magazine cover he passes in the grocery store. He doesn't pick a single one of them up.

He advances in the air force. Marcus introduces him to Lieutenant Earhardt at a military ball. He compliments her on her engagement ring. Once he has a layover in Ocean Bluff, and he eats at a local pizza parlor called Jungle Karma Pizza (recommended to him by a website about local food). His server is a pretty blond who seems genuinely happy to be serving him. He attends a Tanya Park concert with Marcus on his mom’s birthday. She signs his mom’s old record with a smile. He sits on the same ski lift as a guy named Dustin. Dustin talks about how his friends talked him into the snowboarding trip. He sits next to Emily on a commercial flight. She says she’s going to pick up a friend from a cruise and comments on how Scott’s voice sounds familiar.

But he never meets Summer. Or Flynn, who ends up a mechanic like his dad with a moderately successful web comic as a side project. Or Dillon, whose name is not Dillon in this dimension, who lives with his sister and parents and leads a completely unremarkable life. Or Ziggy, who manages to not get caught up with the mob in this universe but is instead a social worker. Or Gem and Gemma, who are not called that, and who are bomb specialists. Or Doctor K, who has a real name and becomes a rocket scientist.

But most notably Scott never meets Summer, who lives like the rich girl she is her entire life, who never saves Scott’s life, who never has Scott’s back, who never worries about another human being, who never cares if someone is worth saving because she never cares enough to save herself. The RPM team never forms in this universe.

And, sometimes, when Scott lies down to go to sleep in the garage, surrounded by his teammates in a doomed world, he wonders if he would choose the world where everything is all right and he never meets Summer if given the option. He feels a little guilty when he thinks that he wouldn't.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [forgotten by time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018749) by [advaevika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/advaevika/pseuds/advaevika)




End file.
